Jamie slides his finger over the phone’s screen, searching through pictures. “Here.” He expands a pic to show its details. There’s a small gold disc on a thin chain. “That’s a St. Christopher medal. My grandfather gave us each one. Jude wore his all the time. Loved it. He had it on the day we went fishing. But he didn’t have it afterward. He didn’t remember it being taken. At first, we thought it must’ve been torn off in the struggle, but I searched. Never found it on the road or in that place he was taken to. Years later, I heard about serial killers and predators taking trophies and I wondered…” From his pocket, he holds up a chain with a small gold medal dangling from it. “It was right there in the jewelry box. With your mom gone, Allendale doesn’t need to hide it—if he ever did.”
The medal blurs before my eyes as all the blood drains from my head. My dad actually did it. He sexually assaulted a little boy. And kept a souvenir.
“I feel sick.” Breathing hard through my mouth, I stagger away from Jamie.
He precedes me out of the room so he can yank open the bathroom door for me. I rush in and retch over the toilet bowl. My lunch splashes into the water until there’s nothing left inside me. Even afterward, I keep heaving for what feels like a lifetime.
Finally, I sink down to sit on the floor with my back against the clawfoot tub.
“Here, Sauce.” Jamie’s voice is gentle as he hands me a damp cloth. “Easy now.”
I reach behind him for a length of toilet paper and blow my nose. After I’ve thrown the tissue away, I wipe my face with the washcloth.
When I look up at him, tears fill my eyes. “I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”
“You weren’t to know.” He rinses the washcloth and uses it to clean the strands of hair that are plastered to my face. “It’s all right now. Your color’s coming back.” Jamie tosses the cloth into the sink and rests his hands on either edge.
With his eyes closed, he whispers, “Found it, Jude. Got it back.” Opening his eyes, he brings his hand up and opens his palm to reveal the pendant, as if his young brother might be looking down at it. “You’ve mine with you, so that’s all right. I’ll just keep this one safe. Till we see each other again.”
That fucking crushes me.
Jamie put his own St. Christopher medal on Jude to replace the one he’d lost. And it’s buried deep in the ground with the boy who will never grow up.
I can’t seem to cry quietly. The sounds are jagged and broken. They’re what they would’ve been for Brad, if he’d been worthy of it.
Jamie swallows and sits next to me. His arm curls around my shoulders and pulls me against his side. “That’s been a long time coming, so you’ll maybe forgive me for speaking to him in front of you.” He licks his lips and seems to mentally shake himself from his thoughts of the past. Looking at me, he says, “I’ve dragged you down into a very dark hole, Sawyer. It was selfish, I know. Should’ve kept it from you?—”
“No.No, Jamie.” My tone has a fierce edge as I rub the tears from my face. “I’m heartbroken, but Ihadto know.” Sucking in a breath, I brace myself, trying to pull what’s left of my heart back together. “Of course I wish my dad was the person I thought he was. I’m ill that he’s not. But that’s not your fault. It’s his.”
He turns his head to kiss the top of my head. “Thank you for that.” His arm squeezes me against his body. “I’ve never told anyone the whole story before. Couldn’t bring myself to do it… Felt like it would be betraying Jude’s confidence. But I reckon he understands why I had to this time.” His breathing is deep, like he’s trying to catch his breath. “You’re someone I need to trust.”
48
JAMIE
At her urging, I leave Sawyer alone to brush her teeth and compose herself.
After I photograph Allendale’s signet ring, I return it to his wife’s jewelry box. I don’t return Jude’s St. Christopher medal, though, not even temporarily. Allendale will never again have anything of Jude that I can take back. If he notices the necklace has gone missing and it puts him on guard, so be it.
I circle back to Sawyer, only to find the bathroom door standing open. She’s gone to her bedroom. When she emerges, she’s wearing a clean shirt. There’s an underlying pallor to her freshly-washed face that hasn’t completely receded.
She rubs her brows, smoothing them into place. “We need an excuse to leave tonight.”
“Not tonight, no.”
“That accent…” She steps forward so her fingers can trace my jaw. “It’s the only bright spot in my whole fucking life right now.” Dropping her hand, she glances around. “I don’t think I can stay here and act like nothing’s changed. Let’s leave. We’ll report him to the police so they can start an investigation.”
I hug her to me, as though I could transfer some of my strength into her body by osmosis. “I need you to manage a little longer, Sauce. For the sake of other kids who may be in danger.”
“What other kids? Once we’ve told the police, they’ll be watching what he does.”
“Maybe eventually. But law enforcement moves slowly and carefully. They might even question your motives for reporting him and drag their feet. There’s no telling what the truth will be up against. I’ve a mind to give the police a smoking gun, as they say.”
Rubbing her temples, she frowns. “So… we’ll do what? I’ll cook dinner like nothing’s happened? We’ll chat with him and go swimming and hang out here?”
“Right, exactly.”
Her shoulders droop. “I can try, I guess.” The voice she uses is soft and hesitant, not at all sure of herself. “But just for one night, okay? Tomorrow I need to leave, whether we’ve found any more evidence or not.”
